A Healing Balm
by M'Celeste
Summary: Theirs was a wedding night fraught with unexpected revelations. A short one-shot set five days after the events of Favors Returned. Warning: Indication of prior mistreatment. Possible trigger.


A Healing Balm

It was not supposed to be this difficult.

"Come Arabella," John pleaded, "Let's not be shy with one another. We are partners who both know how this dance is done."

Arabella sat on the far corner of their bed with her knees drawn tightly up to her chest. Her arms around her knees provided yet another line of defense. Within this garrison she trembled like a leaf. Such reticence was unlike her. John sat down next to Arabella, gathered her hands in his own, and after further gentle coaxing she finally opened up.

"It was years ago John, and you were not my partner."

With that, John lifted Arabella's chin and met her eyes with a steadfast gaze. "You will neither remember, nor wish for any other partner. **This** I vow." A slow trail of ardent kisses led to and followed the neckline of Arabella's ivory satin gown leaving her breathless and overcome by ardor, until finally, willingly, she entrusted herself to her husband.

And during the course of this evening John would prove himself, time and time again, to be a man of his word.

~~o~~

Hours later they lay close together, relaxed and sated. Arabella's sudden shyness was replaced by her usual candor as she expressed her surprise and gratitude.

"I have never before felt such pleasurable feelings as I did tonight, and for this I will always be thankful. It was… a revelation to me. Till now I thought that only men were meant to enjoy the marriage bed. A woman's lot was merely to fulfill her duty, and if she was fortunate there might be less pain, or the pain more bearable…"

John head slowly canted to one side and he fixed her with a piercing stare. "He **hurt** you."

As Arabella thought how best to respond John reached out to grip her shoulders. His voice shook with emotion, "Who is he?"

"How can I possibly tell you?" she cried.

John voice now raised in disapprobation, " **Why** are you protecting him?"

The pressure on Arabella's shoulders increased without his being aware - and Arabella found her full voice.

"Firstly John Thomas, it is now **you** who is hurting me. I am not a bed post."

When John saw what he was doing he immediately released his hold. His eyes closed in shame and his chin dropped to his chest.

Arabella lifted his chin to meet his eyes as she continued on, "Secondly, you vowed that I would _forget_ his name yet you now _demand_ it of me. I'm not done yet John Thomas," she said, as she lifted his chin yet again. "Thirdly, I'm trying to protect **you!** I will **not** have you hung or transported. I will **not** have your life destroyed, nay, **our** lives destroyed because of some rash, foolish act on your part - and don't try to deny that you would do it!" Arabella caught John's face in both her hands to prevent his countenance from falling yet again.

"And lastly, I love… nay, I _adore_ you John. Can you not see? You are everything to me! He is nothing. Please, let this go."

John fought for breath as he struggled to respond, the words tumbling out between sharp exhalations, "Please believe… All I've ever wanted to do is keep you safe… Unconscionable!... That I would harm you in any conceivable way… Please forgive…," Here John's voice broke as he choked back a sob.

As Arabella quickly gathered John in a fierce, forgiving embrace he broke completely and openly wept, something he'd not done since early childhood. Arabella had thought that her response would have initiated, at most, a lively dialogue between them. John possessed a quick temper, and when the occasion demand it she was perfectly capable of responding in kind. But his heart wrenching demonstration of complete and utter despair had taken her completely by surprise. What was the cause of it?

There was much left to learn about her new husband and John was not naturally a forthcoming man. Circumspect by nature he also kept secrets for a living, and often seemed to have difficulty distinguishing between his private and professional personas. As a result, his means of protection against saying too much often involved saying nothing at all.

He lay quietly now in her arms. Though no longer weeping he still avoided her eyes. Arabella resolved to find a way to break through. Surely, there must be a chink in this formidable armor. As she pondered how best to go about it she drew closer to John and her hands, almost of their own accord, slowly began tracing the contours of his back. And this would prove to be her key as John's eyes, though still broken and empty, voluntarily met her own.

"You know John," she began, in a pensive tone, "I believe this Mr. Blevins fellow sometimes gets between us, and I'm beginning to think that I care not one whit for him or his secrets! Wait, no! No, no, I take that back. This Blevins does, after all, let space from my husband, and as his tenant I do care greatly for his safety." Here Arabella placed a lingering kiss upon John's scar. "And to be fair, such a hardworking, ambitious man I've never met the likes of before. He generously pays all of our bills and leaves us with a wealth of plenty to spare. So, if it takes him keeping his council to do all that for us, then I say let him have whichever of his secrets he wishes to keep! I have no interest in anything he cannot tell me.

"However _,_ " Arabella said as she arched her brow, "on the _other_ hand we have a certain Mr. Barrow…"

Arabella saw that she now had John's undivided attention. His eyes had come to life again, meeting her gaze with heightened intensity. So intense in fact, that she had to lower her own eyes as she rested her head against his wildly beating heart.

"Mr. Barrow is a very complicated man, and I truly wish I could be privy to all those wheels and cogs that make him click and whir so interestingly, but alas I do not, for he will not tell me. I wish that he would!" Arabella looked up again in time to see the beginnings of a trace of a smile. She returned a tentative smile of her own and continued.

"He is, after all, my dearest friend in the world. And he healed me this night, replacing past hurt with such pleasure as I could never have imagined… Yet, this same night revealed to me that Mr. Barrow has his _own_ wellspring of pain. I hope that one day he will tell me of it, and perhaps allow me to at least attempt a healing balm. He is such a dear, kind soul. Surely he deserves healing too?"

John smiled softly and shook his head, "Dear Bella, please pay me no mind. It was nothing, truly nothing at all. I've been told that I tend towards melancholic tempers - and I dare say there is some truth to that! - but this surely does not preclude me from being happy. I consider myself to be a very happy man indeed, perhaps even more so than I deserve."

Though Arabella thought it an odd thing to be undeserving of happiness she kept her thoughts to herself.

"Besides," John continued, "you would surely laugh at my litany of childish grievances."

"Only those worthy of being laughed at, I assure you."

Growing increasingly uncomfortable under Arabella's unwavering attention, John considered how best to deflect this discourse and turn it to his own advantage.

"Although I _can_ recall a time - a bleak time indeed! - when I was treated most cruelly by a certain citizen of Meryton… "

"Pshaw! Much of that was your own doing, John. You were not forthcoming with me then, much as you're not being forthcoming with me now." Arabella carefully considered how much she could dare… and her eyes took on a wicked gleam.

"Besides, there was always the Countess to fall back on…"

John made a rude noise, rolled his eyes, and pushed Arabella away with his knee. "You minx!"

Arabella laughed heartily, and clambered back on to her husband's prone form. From this perch she continued to consider the unyielding puzzle before her. She fixed this puzzle with her unblinking, almond shaped eyes. In turn John raked a hand through his hair, a certain sign of his disquiet.

"I've had a good life, Bella. Trust me, I'm fully aware of my good fortune. I was provided with diligent guardians and an excellent education, which is, unfortunately, the exception. Many born in my circumstance are sent straight to the workhouse - or worse!" John was quiet for a few moments before continuing, "In my line of work I've had occasion to find and rescue a few of them, though the vast majority are lost to a cruel life they did not deserve. So, as you can see I really have nothing to protest… and yet I do. "

John seemed to pull inward and his eyes grew unfocused. Several minutes passed without him saying a word. Then suddenly he started speaking again, in mid-sentence as though in mid thought.

"…he hurt her, my mother. Broke her heart. And since the day I first learned of it I've endeavored to be a better man than he ever was. To best him! And yet he still haunts me like a spectre. At every turn I hear how like we are, in appearance which is bad enough, but even worse, how like him in nature. Bella, _this_ is what I must reconcile, and I hardly know how. But I must, for to cause you harm in any way… That would surely be my undoing."

John grew quiet again, refusing to elaborate further as to what that might entail, and Arabella felt a brief frisson of fear. Her heart literally ached for her husband and she hardly knew how to respond, but respond she must.

"John," she began, as she rested her hands on his shoulders. "How you see yourself is shaded by your perception of a man you have never met. I wish that you could see yourself as others do.

"The man I fell so deeply in love with is a kind and gentle soul who diligently attends to the needs of all those under his care; he would never do me harm. He is a man of intelligence, integrity, sharp wit, _and_ , I might add, cuts quite the dashing figure. I am smitten with him! When we walk together on the street I see ladies stealing glances. They are smitten too, and how can I blame them? In your own home, _our_ home, I see the maids whispering and simpering behind your back – especially Constance!" Arabella added, as she poked John's chest for emphasis. "I'm keeping an eye on all of them, for they are _all_ smitten. My own mother is smitten!" Here Arabella sighed deeply, "I fear I will have to start saving my pin money for pugilist lessons, for at some point I will have a fight on my hands."

John did not know whether to give way to laughter or tears, so he gave way to both.

Arabella wiped John's eyes and held his face firmly in her hands. "Perhaps one day you will meet your father and learn that, instead of an ogre he is just an imperfect human being after all, as are we all."

"It will never happen. That bridge is well burnt."

"But surely bridges can be built again, can they not? Consider your old friends Bingley and Darcy, and your plans to meet with them at Pemberley."

"There I at least have a foundation to rebuild upon. And I _hope_ it goes well, but to be honest I stand a good chance of it all blowing up in my face. Darcy has very good cause to throw me off his grounds."

They talked together for some time in this easy fashion, till the ebb and flow of conversation eventually subsided and Arabella fell fast asleep. John seized this moment to consider the precious person he held fast in his arms. What had he done to deserve such a perfect partner? Her buoyant nature was his lifeline, her tender heart a salve for his soul. Though sweet tempered and kindly, there would be no bullying or cajoling of her, nor could he ever bowl her over.

And this night he had learned a new way of speaking to Arabella, or rather, of speaking _with_ her. For him it was a revelation that he could share everything, no matter how personal or painful, with another living soul, and along with that revelation came an unexpected measure of peace. Though he still carried the same burden it felt lighter somehow for having revealed it to a friend, his dearest friend in the world. John's heart suddenly felt full to overflowing, as if he was soaring and falling all at once.

He looked down upon Arabella's sleeping form and lowered his lips to her ear. "Thank you," he whispered softly, then pressed a kiss upon her brow. "Thank you."

 _Finis_

* * *

Author's note: So, for the first time in almost 20 years, it seems that John Barrow and I are on speaking terms once again. I wrote this down quickly in case he changes his mind, so please forgive any pacing and/or tonal issues. It can be difficult to strike just the right balance under the circumstances presented here, especially when one character is trying her best to lift the spirits of another. Speaking of which...

Another pleasant surprise was Arabella! In the past I thought she was pleasant enough in a bland, vanilla sort of way, but here she proves herself to be a force to be reckoned with. John has definitely met his match.

Lastly, John's world has shifted away from P&P. (I had to force the tenuous connection here!) So if there are any further adventures of John Barrow/Blevins, they will likely appear in Fiction Press.

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed it.

Another Author's Note: In case you recieved an alert on 11/27, I did a little editing to remove an embarrassing mixing of metaphors. :-)


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